


Amber Whiskey

by lunaticsong



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Future, Draco runs away at first and then asks Harry out on a date, Drunken Flirting, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Future Fic, Good Draco Malfoy, Happy Ending, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Humor, Kissing, Love, M/M, No Beta We Die Like Dobby, One Shot, Romance, Unexpected Meeting, War Aftermath, Whiskey - Freeform, getting drunk, six years later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28037913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaticsong/pseuds/lunaticsong
Summary: Malfoy looked different. He had lost every trace of a baby face, and sitting next to Harry was now an undoubtedly attractive man, with angular features, a jawline to die for and beautiful lips now dragging themselves up into a crooked smirk, instantly turning the hot stranger into a very familiar Draco Malfoy. “Good evening, Potter.”A short story about Harry and Draco Malfoy meeting in a bar six years after the war, and discovering that next to their love for golden, burning hot whiskey they also share a lot of chemistry.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 87





	Amber Whiskey

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-read. Mentions of alcohol in case you didn't read the tags, very vague mentions of past abuse, no explicit smut.

Absentmindedly, he turned the drink in his hand, watching the amber liquid reflect the warm candlelight around him. The air inside the bar was filled with laughter, clinking glasses and the occasional cold breeze carrying smoke from outside, whenever one of the smokers in front of the building entered to get another drink. Through the windows, golden streetlights outshined the stars and diffused the dark blue night around the bar. 

Harry hadn’t intended to stay this long, but he didn’t mind either. He had lost track of time after the second whiskey, and it was not like anybody was waiting for him at home, he thought bitterly. 

“Hey, look who is here!”, a voice filled with drunken happiness called out from somewhere behind him and for a second, he feared he would lose the peaceful silence he had wrapped around him. He absolutely didn’t want to be recognized and dragged into a conversation about his heroic history. But thankfully, the greeting seemed to be meant for another stranger and Harry hid his relieved smile behind another sip from his whiskey as he listened to the cheering behind him. 

He came here every now and then, usually once a week, just to sit down and watch the people contentedly. There was a certain pleasure in a room full of strangers, surrounded by faces and yet alone. Simply spending time witnessing everything pass by. Harry found his peace here. 

And since it was a Muggle pub, the probability of being recognized was low enough even when it was relatively close to the entrances of Wizard London. It only took about fifteen minutes to the Central Apparation Point that lead to the Ministry, the outer districts of the secret London inside London, hidden away inside itself. Hermione compared it to a russian matryoshka once, a city opening up to another, smaller version of itself. 

Again, a loud call broke the half-conscious daydream thoughts Harry had given himself to, this time from a young woman: “Next round on me, for everyone in here!”, followed by audible appreciation. Taking the opportunity, he downed the rest of his whiskey and nodded to the bartender, a man with crowsfeet and the most ridiculous name Harry had ever heard – and he knew enough pureblood wizards and witches for that to be an impressing achievement.   
When Pilot had introduced himself first, he had taken it as a joke, but his parents seemed to hold such a love for aircrafts they couldn’t see their child with a more reasonable name than Pilot. 

“Another one on the woman there then, please.”, Harry said, leaning onto the bar while nodding in her direction, closing his eyes and relishing the feeling of amber alcohol burning down his throat. He was sober enough to remember that this should be his last one, but intoxicated enough to enjoy the slight swinging of the room around him. 

A man slid into the stool next to him. “I’d like a whiskey as well, please.”, he said with a small gesture at Harry, who looked at him with vague attention. He was blond, lean and pale, with an aristocratic nose and a familiar feeling to him. His face called out to his mind, like- 

“Malfoy?”, Harry exclaimed with visible confusion. The fact that it had taken him so long to recognize his childhood nemesis had most likely been a mix of the alcohol fuzzing up his head a bit and the time that had passed between them. Six years did a lot to a person, apparently. 

Malfoy looked different. He had lost every trace of a baby face, and sitting next to him was now an undoubtedly attractive man, with angular features, a jawline to die for and beautiful lips now dragging themselves up into a crooked smirk, instantly turning the hot stranger into a very familiar Draco Malfoy. “Good evening, Potter.” 

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?”, he asked. Malfoy replied in an amused tone: “Drinking, as you do in a bar, commonly. Are you accustomed with the traditions generally practiced at such a place?” He teased Harry in a way he never had before. No malicious hatred seethed through in his voice, only friendly sarcasm. “You know what I mean. I didn’t expect you here so suddenly.”, Harry answered after a moment of silence, where he collected himself from the weird surprise and decided to approach Malfoy as unexpectedly friendly as he had done. 

“I did not expect to find you of all people here either, Potter. Yet here we are.” Malfoy quickly emptied his glass and gestured for a new one. “But after I saw you here at the bar, so alone and unaccompanied, I thought I would just join you on your whiskey quest.” 

“I quite liked the loneliness. Actually, I come here because of it.”, Harry said, not sure if he was more grumpy about losing his peaceful, undisturbed anonymity or more curious about Malfoy.   
“Do you want me to go?”, the Slytherin asked, leaning his head to the left and inspecting him. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought Malfoy was checking him out.   
He waved dismissively. “No, stay. It’s not my bar.” 

A few moments of silent drinking passed, and Harry couldn’t keep himself from eyeing Malfoy from the side. His face was open and relaxed, an expression he never showed in their school years together, not once. He seemed genuinely content and good-natured. And mature, most of all. Harry wondered how he spent his last years, he had vaguely heard of him getting into a Ministry program after the Trials where he had seen him last. 

The memory was still clear in his mind, how he had sat there in the court and testified in favour of the other boy, who had looked so small, so scared and broken. White skin, blood still tinting his hair red, shivering and traumatized like them all. Harry had seen the dark circles under his eyes, a testimony to the nightmares and insomnia reminding him of his own. He remembered swearing that whatever happened, Narcissa and her son would not have to step foot into Azkaban before The Boy Who Lived did too. And he remembered the thankful smile, despite his eyes being empty and shattered like glass, that Malfoy had given him after they sentenced his father and acquitted his mother and him. 

No traces of that ghost were left, instead Harry faced a man visibly healed from The Second War, humming to the song playing from the speakers, looking like the muggle world was his home. It puzzled Harry, but he was glad Malfoy seemed to be doing good. The final departure from Lucius probably did a lot for him. “You seem very different.”, Harry said quietly, breaking the silence between them. 

Malfoy smiled and murmured: “Time does that. I’ve grown up and learnt a lot-” He looked to the crowd in the room. “And left a lot behind. I like to think I’m different from who I used to be, so thank you.” He ordered another whiskey from Pilot and turned fully to Harry. “You changed a lot as well, Potter.”   
He grinned, and before he could stop himself he cheekily replied: “Yeah, I’m hotter.”   
This was the whiskeys speaking, Harry thought and felt his face heat up but Malfoy threw his head back and laughed loudly. “Oh, watch yourself! The bigger the ego, the smaller are other compartments the muggles say.”, the man joked and winked.   
One more glass, and Harry would have said ‘Let me prove the statement wrong, I can show you.’ But thankfully, he was sober enough to bite that back. He tried to choke down the terror upon noticing how easy it was to flirt with Malfoy. Draco Malfoy! Get a grip, Harry! 

Cursing himself, he opted out on another whiskey, and recalled what Draco had ordered since arriving. They should be even on the whiskeys now, actually – Malfoy was an impressively fast drinker. The exciting buzz of the alcohol thrummed through his body. No more, he decided.

But after ten minutes, Malfoy ordered two shots of an unfamiliar liquor, to prove his argument in the heated discussion that broke out between the two old rivals. “And I am telling you, when you drink this first, then take a sip of the soda, it does taste like bacon! Here, try- thank you.”, Malfoy took the two shot glasses and shoved one to Harry. “Try it yourself. Let me show you.” 

He demonstrated how to drink it and watched intently as Harry repeated the order. A satisfied victory smile lit up on his face upon the Gryffindor dropping his jaw and looking at him with wide eyes. “It does! How in Merlin’s name did you find out?” 

The time passed, and even though not many drinks followed that discussion, their conversation turned deeper with the night. Malfoy looked dishevelled by now, a red blush painting his face and Harry thought he must look the same. They had come closer, his thigh brushing Malfoys with every movement, and when the blond man leaned forward to make a broad gesture, he felt his breath ghosting over his sensitive skin. Their faces close, the euphoric, heated glimmer in Malfoy’s fascinating grey eyes, made Harry noticed how much he had been drawn to the other man all night. 

“I have to go to the toilet real quick, hold on.”, he interrupted their conversation and clumsily dropped from the stool, moving through the crowd of people and sighing deeply after closing the door to the taproom, welcoming the noises being muffled. The mirror showed him an ecstatic, black haired man with a slight blush visible on his dark face. The pale Malfoy had no luck there, when he blushed he immediately looked like a red traffic light, but Harry thanked his darker complexion to make it less obvious on his face. His wild hair had loosened from the half-up-half-down style he kept it usually since growing it out to his shoulders, so that several black strands framed his face now. He washed his hands and wiped over his face once, clearing up a bit. “What are you doing? Fraternising with the enemy?” Laughing over the inside joke and remembering Ron and his angry face, he turned and quickly went to get some of the alcohol out of his body. 

When he came back to the sinks, Malfoy stood there washing his hands. He looked up into the mirror and caught Harry’s eyes. “Following me?”, he teased but stilled as the Slytherin rose. They were even closer than at the bar, and suddenly the air felt thick. Keeping the eye contact, Malfoy extended his right arm and Harry tried to breathe normally. Would he grab him? Had his lips always looked this inviting? Wasn’t he more sober by now, why did he feel more drunk instead? 

The moment passed, and Malfoy grabbed the paper towels right next to Harry’s torso. Mentally cursing himself and trying to not let it show how shellshocked he was from the situation, he moved aside. What was up with him? Men were hot, sure, but Malfoy? Feeling so attracted to another man, not necessarily surprising for Harry, but goddamn Malfoy? 

On their way back, shoving through the crowd of drunk muggles together, Harry tried to stop the thousands of questions storming through his head, but each time his hand brushed against Malfoy’s, another question was added. The coincidental grip on his hip while moving aside fast for two yelling women sent electric jolts through his body, and the touch of Malfoys hand between his shoulder blades to steer him drove him insane. 

Suddenly, he felt Malfoy move behind him and saying down into his ear: “Should we go outside instead?” Goosebumps spread over Harry as he felt Malfoy’s breath against his face, and he – not trusting his voice – nodded and went towards the back entrance. Less smokers than out front, and more peace and privacy. 

When the door shut behind them and the muffled singing and talking in the bar joined the noises of London after midnight, a car driving by, in the background, Harry heard Malfoy take a deep breath. Then he actually grabbed him, and before Harry could do or say anything, he was trapped between the wall behind him and Malfoy’s body. “If you don’t want me to kiss you, say it now.” Malfoys voice was dark, deep, and filled with the same want coursing through Harry’s veins in this moment. Only his eyes showed the nervousness in him, but the way he reached out to Harry reflected how his own desire surprised him.

The rational part of Harry’s brain was screaming, because here he was, twenty-four years old, outside a muggle bar, about to make out with his childhood nemesis, the kid he had hated almost more than Dudley, almost. But what exactly should stop him?   
Said nemesis had grown up just as he had, and he was single since breaking up with his rebound from Ginny. Three years they had been together after the War before admitting to each other there were too many platonic feelings between them. And Harry had discovered his bisexuality, so many things in his school years clicked into place and he explored before being in a rebound relationship with a wizard he had met at work. That only held for seven months but both of them had too much to solve on their own. 

None of this had felt like he felt right now. The atmosphere burned like fire in his blood, his breath laboured just from being this close to Draco goddamn Malfoy. Who slowly leaned down to him, giving him time to turn away, to refuse. Instead, Harry surged forwards, meeting his lips. 

They melted into each other in an instant, Malfoy pressed Harry flush against him with his arms around his waist, and wasted no time kissing him like they were drowning. His lips were soft, plush and hot against Harry’s mouth. He gasped when Malfoy pushed one leg between his thighs, the friction feeling like fireworks setting him on fire. One arm on his shoulder, the other hand cupping the taller one’s chin and deepening the kiss, he wondered how he never felt this amazing before. 

Malfoy smelled forbidden good, and the almost inaudible moan he made as Harry pulled his hair turned him on so much more. He wanted more, this should never end, thoughts surfaced and vanished so fast into the sensations he was feeling, overwhelming him completely. 

With loud creaking, the door of the bar opened and Malfoy and Harry broke apart, Malfoy stumbling two steps back with a shocked expression and Harry felt his heart beat so fast he was convinced he could faint right now. A man with a beard stood in the frame, a beer pint in his left, and surprise written all over his face. He vaguely gestured with his free hand. “Uh, sorry. Continue.”, and went inside again. 

But the moment had passed, and suddenly Harry cursed himself for losing control over himself. Malfoy looked positively panicked, his face even paler than before and his eyes afraid. And before Harry could say anything, he stormed inside and vanished in the still large crowd. 

“Malfoy!”, he yelled and chased after him, but there were so many people and by the time he made it to the front door and stepped outside into the cool air again, he was gone. Only the night and four confused smokers surrounded Harry standing there alone, staring into the dark. 

The next morning woke Harry with golden streaks sneaking through his blinds and painting sunlit stripes onto his bed. The clock told him it was Saturday, 11th August and just past 11 o’clock. After Malfoys sudden departure the night before, Harry had gone home and fallen asleep with a buzzing head. From the rest alcohol or the countless questions regarding a certain someone, he didn’t remember. 

Thankfully he had the weekend off, so he let his head fall back on the pillow and stared to the ceiling. “What the hell?”, he said loudly and listened to the words meeting the ceiling, without an answer. Then he got up. 

With a flick of his wand, the coffee started to brew and a second flick turned on the radio. He switched to the channel Mrs. Weasley always listened to because it gave him a sense of comfort and home that he really needed right now, and started making breakfast with Celestine Warbeck together. Her voice singing from the radio mixed into a pleasantly familiar background noise together with the cars outside, the ticking of the big clock hanging in the kitchen and the sizzling of the pan. 

Harry didn’t hear the knocking the first time, and only when the owl screeched impatiently, he looked to the window and saw it. A pretty barn owl with smoky eyes and a small envelope, which it quickly dropped on the table before landing on the cupboard eyeing him crookedly, after he let it in. “Hey, who are you? Hold on, I have treats.”, Harry greeted her and opened the letter, reading it while throwing a few treats up the cupboard. The owls thankful chirping went unnoticed as the letter’s content registered in his head. 

Hello Potter.   
I apologize for disappearing so abruptly after yesterday’s events.   
Our encounter was not unwelcome, but a bit unexpected.   
If you are interested, I would like to meet up again. Sunday?   
D 

Harry read it three times, then practically ran down the small corridor to his office room, got a paper, strode back and started scribbling his answer. 

Hey, Malfoy.   
I’m up for it, tell me the time and place.   
Harry

The barn owl took his answer and gracefully flew out of the window, disappearing into the southwest of London. Not long after, maybe half an hour, it returned with a small letter, containing an address and a time. Tomorrow, at 3pm, in a café in the south of Magic London. Harry tried to ignore the nervous butterflies awaking in him. He quickly got another sheet of paper and started a letter to Hermione, then crumpled the paper and decide to keep this strange turn of events to himself at first. Draco Malfoy stayed on his mind all day, from his breakfast to his dinner. 

Harry was excited, to say the least. As Sunday, 2pm came around, he had thought very thoroughly of the possibility of Draco Malfoy to be interested in him as much as Harry was interested in Malfoy. The attraction had sparked unexpectedly between them, but after last night it felt right to go out on a date with him. And it was an understatement to say Harry was curious to unravel the mystery this new and changed Draco Malfoy presented.

After his father had been sentenced to a lifetime of Azkaban, Draco had taken the chance of turning his life around. He had burned bridges with all of the beliefs his father had instilled in him and freed himself of Lucius just like his mother. Narcissa had taken on her maiden name again and had started completely renovating the Malfoy Manor, turning it into the Black Estate. They both decided to never let themselves become the people they left behind. 

After his last school year, Draco went into a ministry program to qualify for his studies to become a healer despite his past, and succeeded. So now, after six years, he had overcome every obstacle, processed his childhood under Lucius’ violent, radical upbringing as well as the trauma of the War and could proudly look in the mirror. Until last night, at least.   
Last night had ripped open old wounds, old fears of emotionless kisses and empty love he felt for years, scared that he lost his ability to love after all the issues he suffered through. But the wish to explore how strangely amazing Harry Potter had made him feel was stronger than his instinct to run and push the new feeling away. So he carefully folded his jacket over the back of the seat at the window table and sat down, trying to hide his nervousness. Casually looking around, he inspected the café he chose for this date very consciously. He knew the menu here well and felt comfortable here. Purely by habit he was ten minutes early, preparing for Harry’s arrival. Waving his wand, he summoned one of the charmed menu paper sparrows over to the table and placed it on the other side. 

He was so engrossed in the dessert menu that had been updated that his dates arrival took him by surprise despite his preparation. Harry slid into the seat facing him, and smiled brightly. “Hey there.” Draco looked up with a small start and felt his mouth curve into an equally wide smile. Harry looked breathtakingly handsome, his wild hair like black fire around his face, his incredibly green eyes and dark lashes, a shadow of stubbles and a white shirt with an unfamiliar logo, hinting his physique and making Draco’s mouth water. He caught himself staring, and quickly greeted back: “Good evening.” 

Harry laughed quietly at his reaction, proud of his obvious success in the effort of looking good, and picked up the menu while saying: “It seems super weird, but I suppose we address each other by first names now?” 

“Merlin, that will be a change but yes. I will feel like an impostor calling you Harry.”, Draco agreed. His heart beat fast, and he suddenly feared uncomfortable silence between them. Perhaps Friday night had only been an illusion, induced by whiskey and continued by adrenaline?   
Before he could question himself further, Harry interrupted his thoughts. “Do you know the café here? Why did you pick it?” 

“Yes, I know it quite good, and I had to bring you here because the French Pasta at this place is magnificent. And the coffee they make here is amazing as well, I am pretty sure they roast the beans themselves and brew it freshly.”, he told Harry. “If you are a fan of coffee, this is your heaven.” 

Falling as easy into conversation as last time they met, the afternoon passed by too fast. It was great to talk with Harry, Draco discovered. He was witty and matched Draco’s enthusiasm for his passions easily, not bothering about the looks the neighbour table threw at them when they laughed too loud or argued about House superiority in such a childish way Draco was sure his face would hurt from grinning so much later. 

To his joy, he also discovered Harry was not good in flirting, and he quickly picked up on how adorably the man blushed when Draco effortlessly flirted with him, always scrambling to a reply.   
He didn’t want to part ways yet, he still wanted to spend more time with Harry.  
And thus after sharing a plate of waffles as dessert and downing the last of their coffee, he asked: “Are you up to come to my place?” Harry hesitated a moment, then shrugged. “Sure, I’d love to. I actually have a little present for you still-” 

“A present? Now I am curious.”, Draco eyed Harry. “Let’s pay, then we’ll apparate to my place and you can show me.” Harry got up and teased: “Someone is impatient, huh?” 

Draco pouted slightly, but he had to admit he hated to wonder about presents, once someone started hinting about them. Christmas was a challenge to him every year. So he was understandably quick to take the bill, refusing to split with the argument that he invited Harry so he was the one to pay. “It has been my pleasure, so let me pay.”   
“Stubborn snake.”, Harry murmured jokingly annoyed. “Serpent, if you must.”, Draco smiled. “A true Slytherin is a serpent, not a common snake.” 

Three steps down the street a small Apparation Point lead them to Draco’s apartment, with Harry enjoying the close proximity between them as they apparated. The apartment opening up in front of him was unexpectedly warm lit, high windows letting in the orange sunlight of a setting sun. A narrow hallway lead to the living room, mostly dominated by a dark grey couch and a fireplace. Draco gestured to the couch and went towards a carved cupboard with glass doors, containing several expensive-looking bottles of wine and other liquor. 

“Hold on, you don’t need to get one of these.”, Harry stopped him. He rummaged in his pockets and pulled out a shrinked, golden bottle, charming it to its normal size again and holding it out towards Draco. “My present. On Friday you mentioned you never tasted the Bavarian whiskey from Germany. I brought you a bottle!” Draco took two whiskey glasses from the cupboard and came to the couch. “Thank you, Harry.” He sat down the glasses, taking the amber liquor and placing it on the table. “I can’t wait to try, but first-” 

The brilliant green eyes widened as Draco sat down closely and pulled Harry into a kiss. Not as sloppy and passionate as last time, but deliberately deep. “I had to keep myself from kissing you all afternoon.”, he whispered against the other mans lips. “You look too hot to not be kissed.”   
Harry blushed again, almost unnoticeably flustered, and closed his eyes, pulling Draco closer to him. “Tell me more”, he murmured into Draco’s skin, his fingers slipping under his shirt and tracing a slow path up his back. 

“Your hair drives me insane. I just want to bury my hand in it and do – this.” Draco raised himself on his knees, bracing Harry’s thighs, grabbing his hair and pulling his head back, baring his throat. A gasp escaped him, and as soon as Draco dived down and pressed open mouthed kisses to his throat, Harry was lost. “Oh, god. Draco, you – fuck, Draco.” His skin tasted like whiskey, amber, warm and hot. 

The bottle of actual whiskey was left completely forgotten on the sofa table, reflecting the sunset and painting golden freckles of light to the ceiling, illuminating the room in a surreal lighting.

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to end this here, but if someone wants a follow-up chapter, I'll be ready to fullfill your wishes :)


End file.
